The Bodyguard
by Syl
Summary: Lois Lane on assignment in the City of Bludhaven.


Title: The Bodyguard Author: Syl Francis Email:  Rating: PG13 Part: 1/1 Word Count: 4,389 

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Summary: Dick Grayson and Lois Lane together! Need I say more? 

Acknowledgement: This is sort of a response to Natalie D.'s challenge of pairing Dick with "another woman." Hopefully, Clark won't fry Dick with his heat vision. :) 

Disclaimer: All the characters are owned by DC Comics and Time/Warner; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright. Feedback is welcome! 

Copyright 1999 

**** 

The Bodyguard by Syl Francis 

"That's Ms. Lane to you, Sergeant!" 

"Sorry, Mrs. Lane. I mean, Ms. Kent! I mean--!" 

"Is there a problem, Sergeant Jennings?" Captain MacCauley asked politely. 

Jennings turned towards his superior, his gratitude obvious. "Captain MacCauley! Ms., uh, Lane here is from _The Daily Planet_ in Metropolis. She's here to do a story on--" 

"--I'm here to do a story on Blockbuster, Captain," Lane interrupted. She held out her hand to MacCauley. "Hi. The name's Lois Lane. I'm with the Planet." 

"Yes, Ms. Lane, I'm quite aware of what paper you write for. Even here in Bludhaven, we've heard of Lane and Kent, the Pulitzer Prize winning husband and wife team from Metropolis." MacCauley shook hands warmly with the beautiful reporter. "Please, Ms. Lane, won't you step into my office?" MacCauley turned to Jennings. "Sergeant, is there someone currently available who can escort Ms. Lane while she's in our fair city?" 

"Oh, Captain MacCauley. I assure you. That won't be necessary!" Lane protested. 

"Oh, but Ms. Lane, I assure you that it's no trouble at all. What kind of a representative of my city would I be if I didn't extend the full level of courtesy to a VIP such as yourself? I mean, you're a celebrity in your own right, Ms. Lane. And Bludhaven can be a very dangerous place for the newcomer. Especially one as beautiful as you." 

As they stepped into MacCauley's office, they heard Jennings in the background, "Grayson! Officer Grayson! Report to the squad room, A.S.A.P.!" 

A few minutes later, there was a confident knock on the door, and a young police officer stuck his head in. 

"You wanted to see me, sir?" he asked politely. 

"Grayson! Come in, please!" MacCauley invited. "Officer Grayson, I want you to meet--" 

"Lois Lane!" Grayson said in sudden recognition. "We've met before!" he added with a smile. 

"We have?" Lane asked uncertainly. 

"Yes, ma'am. Although you probably don't remember me. I was only twelve at the time. And you were a little distracted, I guess." Grayson shrugged. "Most women are around my guardian." He laughed suddenly. "Mister Kent was sure fit to be tied, though. I thought he was gonna kill Bruce for sure!" 

"Bruce?" Lane still couldn't place the young officer. 

"Yes, ma'am. Bruce Wayne, my legal guardian when I was kid." 

"Dick Grayson? You're Dick Grayson? Why you were only this high--" Lane gestured with her hand indicating a much shorter height than this tall, straight, and impossibly handsome young man who stood before her. "I can't believe it! How long has it been? Ten years?" 

Dick nodded. 

"But a police officer? Why would the heir to one of the largest fortunes on the East Coast join the police force? And in Bludhaven? I don't understand." Lane shook her head. She'd come to Bludhaven looking for a story on Blockbuster and the city-wide corruption that he currently manipulated. 

Instead, it looked like a different kind of story had suddenly landed itself smack dab on her lap. Unfortunately, Lane didn't have the time nor the inclination to pursue it at the moment. 

"Kid, I'd love to spend some time talking to you, but I've got a deadline to make and some pretty nasty characters to meet. So, if you'll excuse me?" 

"Uh, sorry, Ms. Lane," Captain MacCauley interrupted, "but I'm afraid that it's gonna be Officer Grayson's job to escort you around our fair city." 

"Don't be ridiculous, Captain MacCauley. I'm a big girl and can take care of myself. I don't need a child tagging along after me!" Lane noticed Grayson's pained grimace at the word 'child'. "Sorry, kid, no offense intended." 

"That's okay, ma'am. But I'm afraid that I have a job to do, too." Grayson looked at MacCauley for confirmation. At MacCauley's nod, Grayson added, "And don't worry, Mrs. Kent. I can take pretty good care of myself, too." 

"That's Ms. Lane to you, kid!" 

**** 

The two shadows moved stealthily, as one with the night. Lane was duly impressed by Grayson's natural athletic abilities and down home practical approach to protecting her. Rather than putting up a bunch of inane arguments that he was certain to lose, Grayson simply went along with each of her harebrained ideas. 

This one was simply the latest scheme she'd concocted in the past twenty-four hours. They'd tailed Blockbuster's minions all day, taking breath-taking chances that would've gotten Clark's super-wrath turned on her in an instant. But this kid took it all in stride. 

Lane made small talk during the long periods of waiting, and in the process, learned quite a bit about her BHPD bodyguard. They were sitting on the rooftop adjoining Blockbuster's waterfront warehouse. Earlier that day, Grayson had successfully bugged the place. 

To Lane's chagrin, when she asked him "How?" Grayson gave her a heart-stopping smile but wouldn't elaborate! 

"Sorry, Ms. Lane, but it's one of those highly technical cop-things that we sworn officers of the law aren't privy to reveal to civilians. You understand, of course." Grayson gave her such an intensely serious stare that Lane almost bit. Catching a sudden twinkle flit across his eyes, she snorted. 

"You almost had me going there, kid," Lane said. "But I'm afraid you're talking to the master at deception here. You? Well, you're just too...innocent to pull it off successfully! No offense, intended!" 

Grayson merely quirked an eyebrow and gave her an amused half-grin. Where had she seen *that* particular expression before, Lane wondered? Of course, she realized. Bruce Wayne! That half-smile, as if hiding some humorous secret from the world, was Bruce Wayne's signature smile seen plastered over countless magazine covers. Not a real smile, yet not a phony smile either. Just pure Bruce Wayne. 

And now it was young Officer Grayson's smile as well. 

The heir to the Wayne fortune currently sat listening intently into a set of headphones to what was being said inside the warehouse while also trying to respond to Lane's conversation. 

"After the earthquake, Bruce basically forbade me from returning to Gotham City. Said it was too dangerous and that he didn't want to risk me. I decided that I could do more to help others as a police officer than as an indolent billionaire's heir. There're a lot of ex-Gothamites moving into Bludhaven. The city's just about ready to explode with its sudden over-population. This is the least I can do, I guess." 

"Just where *is* Bruce Wayne?" Lane asked. "Since the earthquake, and his testimony before Congress, he seems to have disappeared. Lucius Fox isn't talking, and neither is anyone else associated with Wayne Enterprises. It's funny, I guess, but why hasn't anyone even thought to ask *you* what you know?" 

"It's not really surprising, Ms. Lane," Grayson replied quietly. "Bruce went to a lot of trouble to keep me out of the limelight when I was growing up. Sure, people knew that he'd adopted a kid, but he never paraded me in front of the cameras or tried to use me in some kind of publicity stunt." Grayson paused to listen into the headphones for a few seconds. After a few moments, he continued. 

"Bruce refused to answer any questions about me during interviews, so eventually people sort of quit asking." Grayson gave her a small smile. "I was lucky in many ways, Ms. Lane. I lost my parents, but I gained a real father in Bruce Wayne. A lot of people dismiss Bruce as some kind of lightweight playboy, but--" 

"--But you don't become the founder and CEO of a Fortune Five Hundred company if you have fluff for brains!" Lane finished. 

Grayson gave her a pleased smile. "You *do* understand! Whoa! Brains *and* beauty! Clark Kent is one helluva lucky guy, Ms. Lane." Grayson looked away momentarily. "As for where Bruce *is*--" 

Before he could complete the sentence, Grayson suddenly gestured for quiet. He listened intently into his headphones, then nodded at Lane and whispered, "Let's go!" 

**** 

Grayson unwound a grappling hook and nylon rope from his shoulder harness. This kid comes prepared, thought Lane admiringly. Stepping back, Grayson indicated that she stand clear. Then faster than the eye could follow, he whirled the grappling hook until it gained sufficient momentum to be thrown over the warehouse roof. 

Grayson tested the rope. It held his weight. He began climbing, then turned to look behind him. "You *can* climb, can't you?" Grayson asked worriedly. 

"It's a little late to ask, don't you think?" Lane replied sardonically. She took the rope firmly in hand, and proceeded to climb like the pro that she was. "Kids!" She tsked under her breath. 

After Grayson pulled himself onto the roof, Lane saw him turn and reach down. Grayson clasped his hand firmly around her wrist and easily hauled Lane up next to him. As she came up to Grayson, Lane stumbled momentarily and crying out fell on him. Lane instinctively grabbed Grayson by the waist and held on. 

Lane suddenly felt Grayson's arms tighten around her. She looked up at him, startled. Grayson was nose-to-nose with Lane, his amused half-smile back in force. 

"Not that I mind, Ms. Lane," Grayson whispered suggestively, "but wouldn't your husband be just a little upset if he saw us like this?" Holding her closer, his smile broadened, his eyes dancing with laughter. "Of course, if *you* don't tell him, I sure won't!" 

Lane brought both of her hands up and chopped down suddenly on Grayson's ears. Or, at least, that was what she intended. To her surprise, Grayson did some fancy footwork and somehow managed not be where he'd been just a second ago! 

Lane felt a light tap between her shoulder blades. She whirled around, assuming a defensive stance. Grayson stood before her, relaxed. He held his arms out at his sides. 

"I surrender, ma'am! Please...I thought we were on the same team!" 

"Yeah? Well, you keep your hands to yourself, buster!" Lane growled. "If you try anything funny again, believe me, you won't need to worry about my husband. You'll have *me* to deal with!" 

"Yes, ma'am!" Grayson replied. To Lane the young officer looked like he was enjoying her discomfiture entirely too much. It seemed that she was going to have to teach him a little lesson. 

Without warning, Lane leaped and struck out at Grayson's head with the heel of her boot. She'd no intention of connecting, of course. She only wanted to give the kid a warning shot. Again, to her stunned surprise, Grayson didn't cooperate and play the part of a practice dummy. 

Instead, he easily countered her move, and before she knew what was happening, Lane found herself expertly held in an arm and headlock. Somehow, Grayson had managed to once again turn the tables on her. 

"Ms. Lane," Grayson said, his voice rasping. "We *are* on the same team, aren't we?" 

Lane managed to nod, yes. 

"Promise me that you'll be a good little reporter, and that you won't try to take my head off again?" 

Another nod. 

"Okay." Grayson released Lane. They stood eyeing one another warily. 

Rubbing her neck and arm ruefully, Lane asked, "Where did you learn that move?" 

Grayson flashed her that half-grin again. "Really, Ms. Lane. I'm a highly trained member of the BHPD!" At her doubtful look, Grayson admitted, "Okay, you don't grow up as the heir to a vast fortune without learning a little self- defense!" Smiling proudly, he added, "Bruce taught me most of what I know." 

Lane returned his smile. Grayson really *was* a nice kid, she thought. Wayne did a fine job raising him. 

Getting back to the business at hand, Grayson led the way to the nearest rooftop access. Approaching with caution, he gestured to Lane that he wanted her to stand back. Taking out a palm-sized electronic unit, Grayson ran the instrument carefully around the entranceway. Satisfied that there were no booby-traps, he quickly placed the gadget on the lock and punched a few buttons. 

Lane watched, fascinated. She'd seen photographs of the instrument that Grayson was holding. It was not the typical police issue. In fact, it wasn't *any* issue! The instrument in Grayson's hands hadn't even been released for production, yet. It wasn't due to come out for another six months! 

Lane saw stamped very faintly on the upper left-hand corner, the letters W.E.! Wayne Enterprises, Lane surmised. It must be nice to be a kid with access to all of the latest toys developed by WayneTech! 

The unit blinked red in a semi-circular pattern, then went green. Grayson carefully returned it to his upper breast pocket, then turned to Lane. He nodded towards the door. "We're in!" 

Lane nodded. 

**** 

As the pair made their way silently through the labyrinthine catwalks suspended over the cavernous open bay of the warehouse, Lane suddenly pulled up short. 

"Grayson!" she hissed. Grayson turned to her, question marks in his eyes. "Look!" Lane pointed. Below them was something huge covered by a tarpaulin. Lane couldn't make out what was outlined underneath the large canvas. "Boy, could I use x-ray vision just about now," she muttered. 

"What?" Grayson asked. 

"I said, let's take a peek," Lane replied, taking off at a run. 

"No!" Grayson called out in a whisper. "Are you crazy?" But she was already gone. Grayson followed Lane at a run. "Bruce warned me about her," he muttered as he ran after her. "Said she drives Kent nuts with her foolish stunts. Man, how does Kent put up with her, anyway?" 

Lane found a ladder in the darkened recesses of the warehouse leading down to the open bay. She was halfway down by the time Grayson saw what she was doing. He shook his head in exasperation. Instead of following at her heels, Grayson looked around the endless rafters, and got a sudden idea... 

**** 

Reaching the bay floor, Lane stuck to the shadows, blending in easily. There were several crates scattered about, which made maneuvering towards the mysteriously covered object that much simpler. Reaching her objective, Lane quickly rolled under the tarpaulin and found herself in pitch darkness. 

Taking out a mini penlight, Lane proceeded to feel her way around the gigantic object. What she saw made her gasp in horror. At the same time, her reporter's adrenaline kicked in. "I see a second Pulitzer Prize!" Lane whispered excitedly. She quickly took out her micro-video camera and began recording. 

In low tones, Lane reported, "This is Lois Lane, _Daily Planet_ reporter. The time is..." she paused and checked her watch, "...two-fifteen a.m., the date..." Lane continued recording her astounding findings. 

"Sitting before me, primed and ready to take over some small country, or perhaps to hold the USA hostage for unaccountable billions...is a thermo-nuclear device. No doubt it is one of the countless unaccounted nuclear devices stolen from one of the former Soviet Union's satellite countries. It was probably acquired for a song from some disaffected general officer or high government official." 

Lane paused, the implications of the device before her almost overcoming her professionalism. "If the underworld figure known as, Blockbuster, is not stopped, he could easily--" 

"--I could easily destroy an entire city!" 

Lane whirled around. The tarpaulin had been lifted, revealing both Lane and the terrorist weapon. "Blockbuster!" she gasped. He was even larger than Lane could've believed possible. 

"I'll take that camcorder. Ms. Lane, isn't it?" Blockbuster's tone was almost polite. He sounded exceptionally well-spoken and acted very well-mannered. Lane swallowed, but stood her ground defiantly. 

"Sorry, you'll get this recorder over my dead body!" 

"That, too, can be easily arranged, Ms. Lane. Unfortunately for you, I am not adverse to killing those who would oppose me in my business endeavors." 

"Is that what you call killing millions of people, Blockhead? A business endeavor?" 

They all turned simultaneously towards the sound of the new voice. There was no one there. Instantly, Blockbuster was hit on the head by an object with the force of a Mack truck! Lane moved as soon as the figure in black distracted Blockbuster and his cohorts. She began running towards the nearest exit. 

"Nightwing!" Blockbuster cried out, outraged that his plans were being foiled yet again by that pajama-clad whelp! "Stop them!" He roared. "Do not let either of them escape!" 

Before she could reach an exit, Lane was tackled from behind. As she fell, she lost her handhold on the mini-recorder. It went flying through air, only to land somewhere in the shadows with a resounding crash! 

Furious, Lane turned on her attacker. Using every dirty trick she knew, Lane dispatched the hapless mook in a few seconds. The coup de grace she gave him would have him singing in the high ranges for a few days! 

Lane didn't wait around. She ran in the direction that she'd last seen her camera flying. Taking out her penlight, Lane searched the area, her sense of urgency overwhelming her. Spotting it wedged between two crates, Lane quickly made her way towards the camera. 

Reaching it, Lane was dismayed to find that the camera was wedged in tightly. How could she get it out? 

"Where's Superman when you need him?" she asked no one in particular. 

"Will I do?" A new voice asked her from above. 

The dark figure who'd earlier slammed into Blockbuster landed lightly before her. He had a dark, midnight blue stylized wing that crossed his chest and seemed to keep going, outlining the outside of his arms towards his heavy gauntlets. Lane also noticed that he wore a bat-like mask. Bat-like, she wondered? 

"The name's, Nightwing," he said by way of introduction. The young vigilante turned an incredibly charming smile on her, then becoming all business, he ordered coldly, "Step back!" Taking out a handful of pellets, he tossed them at the crates, then grabbing Lane, he threw himself on top of her. 

Behind them, a hot magnesium flash burned brightly, let out a soft whumpf, then fizzled. Nightwing quickly recovered the slightly singed, and melted recorder, and handed it to Lane. 

"Be careful. It's hot," he warned. Not waiting to see if she'd heeded his advice, Nightwing looked up, raised his right fist, and to Lane's amazement, shot out a grappling line from his gauntlet. 

"Let's go!" Before she could protest, Nightwing grabbed her and swung her to safety. When he had her back on one of the catwalks, he released her. "I've got to go back," he said quietly. "I need you to contact the BHPD...Captain MacCauley or Sergeant Jennings--no one else, and let them know what's going down here. Will you do that?" 

Lane wanted to nod and agree to do what this young, handsome daredevil had asked, but she was a reporter and this was the hottest story she'd ever stumbled on. 

"I'm sorry, Nightwing, but I've got a story to write. And it's down there...not in some safe place outside." 

"I was afraid you'd say that, Ms. Lane. I'm sorry, but I can't be responsible for your safety, so I'm afraid that I'm going to have to force the issue." Nightwing quickly sprayed a cool, soothing mist on Lane's face. "Pleasant dreams, Ms. Lane," he said softly. 

As the earth reeled around her, Lane felt a pair of strong arms carefully enfold her... 

**** 

"Ms. Lane! Ms. Lane! Wake up!" The worried voice was young and insistent. She felt light taps across both of her cheeks. "Ms. Lane--!" 

Lane moved her face in protest. "Uhhnnn..." she heard someone groaning. Was that her, she wondered? "Water," she swallowed dryly. "Please--" 

Lane instantly felt something cold being held against her lips. The soothing, wet liquid was a balm to her dry throat. Lane swallowed slowly and painfully at first, then greedily. 

"Whoa! Ms. Lane, I think that you've had enough," the voice said. Then obviously speaking to someone else, he added, "Thanks, Kelp! No, I think she's going to be all right. She seems to be coming to." 

Lane blinked her eyes open. There was crazy kaleidoscope of multi-colored lights flashing around her. Emergency vehicles Lane realized. She was lying on...Lane felt with her hand. An EMT stretcher. She looked up at the young, worried pair of dark blue eyes that were gazing down at her. 

"Welcome back, Ms. Lane," Grayson said quietly. "You really had me worried there for a while." 

"What happened?" Lane asked. 

"Well, after you took off," Grayson explained, "I went back outside to the roof and called for backup. By the time I returned, you and some character in black pajamas were in the middle of a full-blown melee with Blockbuster and his men. After the two of you got away, pajama-guy waved something in front of your face, and next thing I knew you were passed out. It must've been some kind of gas. He carried you out here, but by the time I arrived, he was already gone. I checked you out to make sure that you were okay, then I went back into the warehouse." 

Grayson paused in his recitation. "By then, I heard sirens. The BHPD once again arrived in the nick of time! Anyway, whoever that guy was who knocked you out did something to that thermo-nuclear device. According to the reps from the local Star Labs, he actually removed whatever thingamagigee critical part that's necessary to set the bomb off. The US Army's sending an Ordinance Company to recover what's left. They should be here within the hour." 

Lane sat up slowly. Reaching next to her, she felt around for her purse. Panicking, she began searching frantically. "Where *is* it?" Lane cried. "Where's my purse? My purse? Where *is* it?" 

Lane grabbed Grayson by the lapels! "What did you do with my purse?" she demanded. 

"Your purse?" he asked innocently. "I don't know what you're--?" Grayson looked down at his feet. "Oh, here it is. It must've fallen off the stretcher." Grayson reached down and picked up Lane's handbag. Simultaneously, Lane reached for it, and somehow the two once again ended up nose to nose. 

Grayson slowly handed Lane her purse, a small quizzical smile in his eyes. "Are you okay, Ms. Lane?" 

Lane felt her breath catch in her throat. The kid had the most incredibly blue eyes, she thought. Don't be crazy, Lois Lane. You're a married woman! Feeling suddenly impish, Lane grabbed Grayson by the lapels once more and kissed him fully and passionately. Releasing him finally, Lane saw the poor, hapless boy collapse on the stretcher next to her. 

Lane quirked her eyebrow at the dazed, young police officer and gave him a half- smile. There, she thought dusting off her hands in a satisfied manner! That'll show him not to mess around with Lois Lane! 

"I'm feeling fine, Officer Grayson! Of course, I can't seem to say the same about you! You don't look so good!" Lane smirked. 

Then, looking down at the purse in her hands, Lane brought it up to her chest and held it tightly to her. Closing her eyes, Lane took a deep breath and slowly opened the pocketbook. Almost reluctantly, she looked inside and a slow blissful smile worked its way across her smudged, but still beautiful features. 

"It's here," Lane said in low, awed tones. "I didn't dream it." Lane pulled out the singed and slightly melted recorder. It would never work again, but it had done its job this time. It would be a relatively simple job for the technicians over at the Metropolis Star Labs to help her recover her tapes. 

After all, she'd done Star Labs many a good turn in her time, and besides, she knew someone, a Super-someone, who was on exceptionally good terms with the Star Labs staff. 

"Is that what you were looking for, Ms. Lane?" Grayson asked. Lane nodded distractedly, her mind already on her Pulitzer Prize acceptance speech. 

**** 

"I can't believe you don't know who he is," Lane protested. "He called himself, 'Nightwing'!" 

Grayson and MacCauley exchanged derisive looks and snorted almost simultaneously. "Oh, we've heard rumors, mind you," MacCauley acknowledged, "but we really haven't taken 'em seriously. I mean some vigilante dressed up in black pajamas operating out of Bludhaven? Why? We're not exactly Metropolis! What could possibly attract someone who's trying to make a superhero name for himself to *our* town?" 

"Maybe that's exactly why he's here, Captain MacCauley," Lane mused. "After all, in Metropolis all of the local heroes are sort of eclipsed by Superman. In other cities where there's already an established hero, there's little chance for a newcomer to make a name for himself. Maybe Nightwing feels that he can do the most good, help the most people in a town without heroes." Lane looked at the two dedicated police officers. 

"Relatively speaking, of course. I was wrong in my initial assessment of the BHPD and the City of Bludhaven. I still believe that there is an underlying corruption that needs to be uncovered, but I don't believe anymore that everyone associated with the city is tainted by the same stain of corruption. I see that there are many hard-working and dedicated individuals who are just as heroic in their struggles against evil as Superman has ever been...or as this new hero, Nightwing, is striving to become." 

Lane stood up. She thanked MacCauley for his help, and then turned to Grayson. "It's been a pleasure and an honor to work with you, Officer Grayson. And may I add that I've never had such a high-priced bodyguard before? I'll have to tell Clark that his old friend Bruce Wayne's little boy has grown up. Of course, beneath that mild-mannered exterior of Clark's lies an extremely, Super-jealous husband." 

Grayson's blue eyes widened. "But--" he protested. 

"If I were you, kid," Lane said smiling wickedly, "I'd hire me a bodyguard!" 

The End 

#### 


End file.
